


Shadows Nipping At Your Nose

by MutePoetess



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MutePoetess/pseuds/MutePoetess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jackson Overland had never fallen through the swiftly cracking ice over a pond in Burgess, Massachusetts? What if he had never become Jack Frost? Would there just never be a Winter Spirit or would the Man in the Moon have chosen someone else instead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The full moon hung low over a small colonial town where two particular children slept, children who would change the world, one sooner than the other.

_Everything is in place now. Tomorrow will be the day. It is indeed a shame, but the world is going to need him, and he is going to need the motivation, the inspiration. I do not know what will happen to the girl. She will be devastated and this will change her life. But my concern cannot be with her. He has to be chosen, and in this way. He will not hesitate to save her. It is unfortunate, but he will have to find this memory later on. Remembering her, it will give him the strength he needs to return to the fight. She may never know it, but her existence will lend power to those who will protect the world from a new and vast darkness. Perhaps it is cruel for it to happen this way, but that I cannot change. Tomorrow will mark the death of Jackson Overland. Tomorrow night, Jack Frost will be born._

As the moon touched down on the west horizon, the sun slowly rose on the east, bringing with it a day that, unbeknownst to humankind, would eventually change the world.


	2. Chapter 2

A sickening crack pierced the silence of a winter day as the ice below a little girl started to break. She was barely keeping her footing as the ice shifted, but her gazed was locked on her brother's eyes. The two had gone ice-skating and it had been fun at first but then everything changed.

The boy, Jackson Overland, had taken off his skates so he could keep his footing better. He looked at his sister, his mind racing to think of a way to get her back to solid ground. He was afraid but he pushed that feeling aside, knowing that it wouldn't help him rescue her. Besides, he didn't want to let her get scared either so he forced a little smile onto his face. "It's ok, it's ok," he said, holding his hands out to let her know everything was going to be alright.

"Jack," said his sister, Emma, "I'm scared." She looked down to the ice below her as even more cracks spider-webbed across it and it was easy to tell that she was barely holding back tears.

"I know, I know," Jack said, "but you're gonna be alright."  _I just don't know how, but I'm gonna find a way,_  he thought as he tried to step forward, but the ice cracked below him too. He made his smile a little wider, making sure to betray no trace of the uncertainty he was feeling and told her, "You're not gonna fall in." And then, finally, an idea came to him. "We're gonna have a little fun instead," he said. The idea was a long shot and fear started creeping into his head but he had to do something and this was the only thing he could think of.

"No, we're not!" Emma cried, fear freezing her in place.

"Would I trick you?" Jack asked, working hard to keep his own fear out of his voice.

"Yes! You always play tricks!" she accused as he edged forward toward her, the ice cracking more and more.

"Well, alright," he said with a chuckle, though the situation was anything but funny, "well, not- not this time. I promise. I promise."  _I'm not going to let anything happen to you,_ he thought, but the words he spoke to her sounded so much more confident than the words that he was telling himself in his head. "You're gonna be... You're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me," he said, hoping to keep her mind on him instead of the danger of the situation. He looked around, trying to find anything that might help him and that's when he saw the branch. It was long and shaped sort of like a hook at the end. He'd be able to catch onto her with that and pull her to safety. But first he had to reach it. Could he? Could he really save her? He couldn't let her die, not like this, but would this really work? The fear inside him grew even stronger but he tried to ignore it. "You want to play a game?" he asked. "We're gonna play hopscotch. Like we play everyday." He took a step toward the branch. "It's as easy as one..." He shifted his weight and the ice cracked more. Fear flashed into Emma's eyes and through Jack's heart but he couldn't let her know that he was scared too. He pretended to lose his balance for a moment, laughing and hoping to keep her fear at bay too. She giggled a little and he stepped again, saying, "Two..." He knew he was getting toward firmer, safer ground because the ice cracked less and as he said, "Three," he leapt over to where the branch was laying. He picked it up and crouched down, looking at her. He'd gotten himself to safety, but would he be able to do the same for her?  _What if I can't?_  the panicked thought rushed through his head.  _What if I can't save her? What if she..._  He tried to ignore the thoughts but they were starting to overwhelm him as he looked as his little sister, helpless and afraid, a thin sheet of ice being the only thing separating her from a very cold death. "Now it's your turn," he said, reaching the branch toward her. "One..."  _Please, please let this work,_  he pleaded, trying to keep tears from his eyes.

Emma tried to take a step but her skates were slipping and her weight shifting was putting even more pressure on the ice. Every crack made the fear in Jack's mind grow more powerful. It wasn't going to work. He wasn't going to save her. He was going to fail. He shook his head a little bit, trying to get rid of the fear but it didn't work. He couldn't just give up though.

"That's it, that's it...Two..." He just needed her a little bit closer, just a little bit. It could work. But what if it didn't?

She could barely stand up and she gasped a little. He reached the branch out a little farther.  _Three,_  he thought. All he had to say was 'three' and everything would be ok. But he was frozen in place. Her eyes locked onto his and he realized he was just as scared as she was.  _Three!_  he thought, but he was paralyzed with fear and couldn't say it out loud. The sound of cracking ice grew louder and louder but he couldn't moved.

"Jack!" Emma cried, terrified.

 _I have to move, I have to do something,_  he thought frantically, but it was like a dark curtain had fallen over his mind, rendering him unable to make a move.  _I have to - I can't - I -._

Only seconds had passed but the fear wasn't letting Jack go, and he remained motionless for a second too long.

The ice gave way below her, the cracking sound and her scream piercing the cold air as with a splash, the freezing lake water claimed her.

"EMMA!" Jack shouted, adrenaline rushing through his veins and blocking out the fear. He leapt forward and dove into the water, the cold quickly stealing all of the warmth from his body as he forced his eyes open. Everything was a ghostly blue and the water was murky. He couldn't see her. He couldn't see her anywhere. He broke through the surface of the water, taking a deep gasping breath before plunging downward again, forcing himself to dive deeper. His arms and legs flailed in every direction, his fingers outstretched as he prayed to find her so that he could pull her back up. But as his fingers went numb and his own vision began to darken, he knew the horrible truth.

He rose to the surface again, dragging himself out of the water and onto the ice where he lay, shivering, overcome by fear and pain and anger at himself. It was his fault. He'd let his fear get the better of him. He didn't save her. She trusted him and he didn't save her because he was too scared.

It was his fault, and now she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

When the tragedy struck Burgess, the moon was hanging in the sky on the other side of the world. It slowly made its way back to the New England colonies, and something darker lurked in the shadows that even the moonlight couldn't penetrate.

_Something has gone wrong. What has happened? The powers over Winter have already begun to take their effect on...the boy. But this is not so. Jackson Overland lives. Yet there is the hole in the ice. If not Jackson Overland, then who has been claimed by the Winter?_

_No. This cannot be. The girl. This is not right. The girl cannot fulfill the destiny that was meant for her brother. It will not work this way. And she is just a child, much younger than can handle this burden. Jack Frost was always meant to exist. Jack Frost_ must  _exist but he cannot while Jackson Overland still lives. And while this girl possesses the powers intended for her brother, there can be no Jack Frost anyway._

_This must be remedied as soon as possible. But how? And beside that, why have things changed? He was supposed to sacrifice himself for her. His path of action was never in doubt. There must be something else at play. Something, or someone, has interfered. I will find out, and I will make this right._

Below the moon, the dark shape in the shadows loomed out of the darkness and into the moon's light, revealing himself in sharp contrast to the ice on which he stood. He turned his face upward with a satisfied smile.


	4. Chapter 4

There on the ice stood the Nightmare King himself, Pitch Black. He moved as silently as a shadow, stepping over to hole in the ice. At the edges it was starting to freeze over again. Everything had gone according to his plan. Though the boy's belief in the Boogeyman was questionable at best, Pitch had been able to worm his way into his frightened head. It only took a touch of fear, a few seconds of hesitation for the plan to work. The boy wouldn't be changed as the Man in the Moon had planned, but the girl would receive the powers instead.

Up above Pitch, the Moon hung in the sky, seemingly full with discontent, worry even. A self-satisfied laugh rang through across the lake's frozen water as Pitch turned his eyes skyward. "Don't look at me like that, old friend," he said jovially. "You have your Guardians, and what have I? Barely anything left. I am alone, and I will tolerate that no longer. Besides..." Pitch looked down through the hole in the ice and readied himself for what would come next, and then looked back up at the Moon. "You're not afraid of one little girl, are you?"

No response came in the silent winter air. Pitch looked into the dark hole in the ice and all below was...  _pitch black_ , he thought to himself.  _Perfect._  From the forest around the lake slunk dark shadows, called to Pitch by his magic. Though he wasn't strong as he once was, this was a trick he had worked very hard to perfect, for it would quite possibly be his last and grandest effort to remain the formidable force he had once been. With a flourish of his hands, he sent the shadows down into the frozen water. The seemed to disappear, being just as dark and the waters below the ice but from above, Pitch was still able to manipulate them.

Neither sinking nor rising in the cold lake water hung the body of a young girl, Emma Overland. With the Moon's magic already set to work on her, her hair had begun to turn white and her skin became much paler than it was before, Pitch intended to add a bit of his own magic to that transformation. The shadows cacooned the girl, wrapping her in an impenetrable darkness. That darkness began to seep into her bones, mingling with the frost-magic that it met there. Slowly, the shadows began to lift the girl, floating gently toward the surface of the water.

Pitch stood in anticipation by the hole and soon the shaped of a swirling black cloud broke the surface and rose into the air. Below it, the water back to freeze over, black tendrils intermingling with the ice crystals. Holding her shape just a few feet above the ice, the shadows parted so that the girl became visible. Her hair swirled around her, buffeted slightly by the movements of the shadows. It was so pale blue that it was almost white - as the Moon had planned - but its ends were black and the darker color seeped upward into the lighter, much as the shadows had seeped into the girl herself. The shadows lowered lowered her and as they did, Pitch stepped closer and ran a hand through her hair. She reminded him so much of... A small, sad smile formed on his lips, an expression without any mischievous or malicious intent.  _She's perfect._

As her feet touched down on the ice, she gasped, waking up after a very cold sleep. Her eyes immediately met his. She'd been born with sweet brown eyes, but now they were of the palest blue, with black flecks. As he looked down at her, his smile lost its sentimentality, becoming less soft and more victorious and proud. It had been a success. Starting now, everything would change.

Pitch Black looked at the girl with whom he would rise to power once again, and said, "Hello."

***

Jack sat by the fire in his family's small house, shivering violently. He was in warm, dry clothes and wrapped in blankets, and behind him at their table sat his mother, sobbing softly. His father had gone to let the town's leader know what had happened so that no other children would go try to play on the thin ice. None of them could bear to go to the lake where Jack's discarded skates still lay. Though it wasn't said out loud, they knew it was of no use. There was no way Emma could still be alive.

Despite the blankets, Jack couldn't stop shivering. He tried to force his jaw closed, biting down hard, but the shivering won out, causing his teeth to chatter loudly. That sound though, and the sound of his mother's crying, was drown out by another sound ringing in his ears: the sickening crack of ice and the splashing and rushing sound of water. He stared into the fire, his eyes darting side to side occasionally, but he wasn't seeing the flames. In his head, the scene replayed itself over and over again. Emma's eyes on him, full of fear and pleading, and then trust... and then fear again for a split second before the water claimed her. It was all Jack could see. Tears began leaking out of his eyes and he barely blinked, his expression one of sheer terror.

Eventually, Mrs Overland rose from her seat and set to preparing some warm broth for Jack. Despite her grief, she had to make sure her son would remain safe and healthy, which meant keeping him warm. The dip in the lake threatened terrible illness, and she wouldn't be able to bear losing both of them. Neither she nor her husband blamed their son for what had happened and she vowed to make sure he knew that.

Jack was hardly aware of his mother moving around until she sat next to him and helped him drink a bowl of broth. He was shaking too violently to hold the bowl himself and though she was shaking too, her hands were steadier than his, effected only by grief rather than that as well as the bitterest winter chill. The warmth of the broth seemed to burn him inside but Jack still shivered, the cold having bitten deeply into his bones. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be warm again, but it didn't matter. The physical chill was nothing compared to the pain of loss he was feeling. It was like his heart had followed his sister through the hole in the ice, leaving a hole in his chest that would never be filled again. He curled his body tightly within the blankets and his mother wrapped her arms around him, but still his sister's scream echoed in his ears. He knew his parents didn't blame him, but Jack would never forgive himself.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Emma's eyes darted from the shadowy man before her to the ice below her feet, to the full moon above her and then back to the man in front of her. He was tall and cloaked in black and his eyes seemed to shine a gold color. His face seemed menacing but it also looked like he was trying to appear friendly. She took a quick step backward and with this movement, her hair swung forward, flashing white in her periphery. She gave a little gasp, gathering a bunch of it in her hand and examining it more closely. It was nothing like the brown hair she'd had all her life. "Wha-..." she started. Her voice was small and quiet but even she could hear the difference in it from before. It rang with a new coldness, cutting through the silence of the night. "What's happened to me?" She looked back at the man.

"You fell through the ice, my dear," said the man. "You fell through the ice, but I pulled you free. I  _saved_  you."

"You... Who are you?" she asked.

The man smiled but it didn't seem warm or sincere. "My name, little girl, is Pitch. Pitch Black."

_Pitch Black,_  she thought,  _Why does that name seem so familiar to me?_  She looked at his dark skin, his eyes that seemed to almost glow in the shadows, and his long black robe and then gasped. "The Boogeyman," she said, stepping back again.

"Ahh, yes," Pitch Black said, frowning and turning away with a shrug, "unfortunately I am known to many by that name and because of it, they all think I'm such a bad man." He looked back at her with that same unsettling smile. "But if I was such a bad man, why then would I have rescued you from drowning?"

She scrunched her eyes up. Her memory of the incident was weak and she willed the images to come forward in her mind. "My brother... My brother was here," she said, looking up at him again. "Jack. Jack was trying to save me! What happened to him, where is he?"

"Oh, young one," he said, "Your brother ran off, leaving you to your cold fate. He could've saved you, you know. But he didn't. I guess he was... too afraid."

Emma felt a strong, uncharacteristic anger in her heart, but she thought hard about her brother. "No," she said, "he did all he could. He wanted to save me. He loves me."

Pitch swept forward and around her, standing now at her right shoulder and looking down at her. "I suppose he might, but if he really loves you, where is he now? Why am I the one standing with you on the ice and not him?"

She didn't answer. Instead she just looked off into the trees. As she looked around, she realized that even with the light of the moon, it was dark, but she could still see perfectly, and even though it was cold, her breath didn't cloud in the air before her and she didn't seem to feel cold. Nothing made sense. She didn't want to think about the possibility that Jack had run away and left her because he was scared. That wasn't like him, he wouldn't do that. She turned to face Pitch again but her foot brushed up against something. She looked down; it was a long branch with a crooked part at the end. She leaned down and picked it up. It somehow felt right in her hands.

Pitch put a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's ok to be angry. You should be, your brother abandoned you and left you to die."

"No!" she said forcefully, swinging the staff without meaning to. Immediately, ice formed on the shoulder of Pitch's cloak. Her eyes widened. "What... did I?" Suddenly, she felt extremely tired and she leaned heavily on the branch she was holding.

Pitch chuckled, looking down at the ice on his shoulder. Her powers were already beginning to show. "You are powerful, child," he said. "You have much potential and if you come with me, I will show you how to do great things. You will have powers beyond imagination over ice and shadows. I want to help you."

"How did I do that?" she said, her breath coming heavily.

"You are special," Pitch said. He put both hands on her shoulders. "You are chosen."

Blackness was beginning to creep into the edges of her vision - not shadows like she apparently had no problem seeing through now, but just blackness. She swayed slightly. "But Jack," she said, more quietly now, "I have to... see... Jack."

She started to fall, her vision going dark, and she had just enough time to hear Pitch say, "Jack doesn't matter anymore." In the seconds before he passed out, she began to wonder if he was right.

_The powers must be a lot for her body to handle,_  Pitch thought to himself as he scooped the girl up into his arms. He looked at the branch still clutched in her hand and gave her a little shake, hoping to dislodge it, but she held fast to it. He shrugged to himself, letting her keep it and then focusing on the fact that she'd just passed out. _Being changed at such a young age, it's probably going to take a while he body grows accustomed to all the new magic that it just received._  He looked down at her. Now he had someone to work with, someone to train and to help him accomplish his goal: to be believed in by everyone.  _And someone to keep me company_ , he thought. Then he made a face. It would not do to get sentimental about this whole thing now. He had to focus on his goal.

But right now, all he had to focus on was getting her to a safe place to rest. He glided through the forest, and eventually came to a place where an empty bed frame sat. He glanced one more time up at the moon, giving it a victorious grin, and then slid down the hole, his shadows following after him.

He arrived in his lair and set the girl down. There wasn't much in the way of comfort so a slab of stone would be her bed for the time being. The shadows that Pitch had been controlling curled themselves around and underneath her. He didn't know how long she would sleep, how long it would take for her body to get used to the new powers. She was very young, and as far as he knew, no one that young had ever been changed before. On top of that, she was having to absorb both the powers the moon had given her and the powers he had given her as well. There were indeed parts of this process that he hadn't thought out all the way. Maybe she'd never wake up. But he doubted that would be the case.

All he could do in terms of her sleeping now was wait, but he could still use the time to his advantage. "She doesn't trust me enough yet," he said quietly, looking at her. "She's still too attached to that brother of her." He reached his hand into the shadows around her. "Well, let's just see if we can change that now, shall we?"

Every day seemed like an eternity to Jack. The Overland house was almost always silent now. It used to be constantly filled up with the sounds of laughter and fun, but Emma's voice would no longer be heard there and with what happened, Jack didn't have the heart to laugh anymore. For three days he merely sat inside, looking into the flames that burned in the fireplace. He only ate when his mother reminded him to. Both of his parents hugged him often, hoping to express that they didn't blame him for what had happened, but Jack's own blame on himself was more than enough to compensate for that, and he could still hear his mother crying in her room each night.

On the fourth evening, the town held a small memorial service for Emma. Normally, this type of service would take place in the cemetery just outside of town, but with no body to bury, there wasn't much point. The town gathered instead around a fire in the square, reading last rites from a book. Some people stepped forward to say how much they would miss the little girl, but Jack and his parents did not. His mother couldn't stop crying and as Mr. Overland held her, she held onto Jack for dear life, as though she might lose him at any second, too.

After the service, everyone headed back to their homes, but Jack headed in a different direction, telling his parents that he'd be home in a few minutes. Mr. and Mrs. Overland were very worried at this though. "You're not going back to the lake, are you, Jack?" Mrs. Overland asked timidly.

Jack just looked at her and then looked away, and she knew she was right. "I'll be back soon," he said.

His mother hugged him tightly. "Jack, please..." She didn't want him to go, but she also knew that he was grieving and maybe this would make him feel better. She held him at arm's length and looked into his eyes, tears in hers. "Don't go out onto the ice," she whispered.

"I won't," he promised, trying to smile, but he couldn't quite get his face to manage the gesture. They looked at each other for a moment more, then Jack turned away and headed for the lake.

It was quiet and the moon was high a bit less than full. The ice sparkled in its light and Jack crouched down by the edge of the ice. He sighed, his breath clouding the air before him. He might've cried, but the air was so cold that he felt like any tears would have frozen the moment he shed them. "Emma..." he said to the emptiness. "Emma, I'm so sorry. I'm so..." But apologies would not bring her back.

He looked out the ice for a few minutes more when he noticed something strange. At first, he though it must be a trick of the light and the weird reflective quality of the ice, but no matter how his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it didn't seem to go away. He stood up again, hoping to get a better view but it was still difficult to see. There was something wrong with the ice where Emma had fallen in and he wanted to see it closer.

Jack looked down and stepped forward, tentatively placing a foot on the ice. He leaned forward, putting his weight on it. Here by the bank it was solid enough to hold him, but would it be out there too? He took another step. Still, he was safe. Another step, and then another, and as he tried to take one more, the ice started to crack. He stepped back quickly, safe on the thicker ice, but as his brain had registered the sound, he immediately thought of his sister. "Emma!" he cried, his brain momentarily projecting the image of her on the ice where she'd fallen in. But the image quickly faded. Jack shook his head, tears leaking out of his now despite the cold. "Emma..." he said again.

He took a few deep breaths, focusing on the anomaly in the ice. Seeming to radiate from exactly the point where she'd fallen in, there were black tendrils stretching out, swirling and reaching into the ice. He had no idea what they might be made of. He'd never seen that happen to lake ice before. They were menacing, seeming to move closer like black creeper-vines, but  _that_  was definitely a trick of the light. Somehow though, they made Jack very uncomfortable. The air suddenly felt much colder around him but he was so curious about the black tendrils. Was it because his sister had fallen through? Had that stirred something up in the lake water that had reached up and stained the ice? The longer he looked at them, the more uncomfortable he felt, and with all of his grief and guilt over Emma, he didn't need this feeling on top of it too. He realized that what he was feeling then was fear.  _There's nothing I can do now,_  he thought.  _What am I afraid of now? There's nothing I can do. What's done is done._

Jack stepped back carefully until he was safely on solid ground again. Looking out over the lake, he once again imagined a frightened-looking Emma standing on the ice, her eyes locked onto him, begging him to save her. "I'm sorry," he said one more time, his voice breaking with emotion.

He closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the image, and then turned around, knowing he had to get home quickly or his parents would go crazy with worry. Sure enough, when he reached his house, Mr. Overland was putting on his jacket, ready to go out and look for Jack.

Jack sat down by the fire again, shivering with the cold and with the fear that still sat in his mind, mingling with the uncomfortable feeling of the sight of those black shapes in the ice. His mother wrapped her arms around him and held onto him until he started to feel warm again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Though the tragedy of the girl and the ice had shocked some of Burgess's residents so badly that it seemed time had stopped, time continued stalwartly on. The days passed, slowly but consistently nonetheless. The sun rose every morning and every night, just like this one, the moon calmly made its way across the sky over the small town.

_I should have guessed that Pitch Black would try to interfere. I had a feeling that he would get involved – but not until much later. Why this way? What has he to gain from making the girl get the powers? He could've simply tried to corrupt Jack, why bring the girl into it? Unless... No, Pitch is not the sentimental sort, it couldn't possibly be because of... No. But, "you're not afraid of one little girl, are you?" That's what he said. What did he mean by that? What does he have planned? I have to fix this but I'm still not sure how. The girl will have to give up her powers so that Jack may become Jack Frost... This may yet work in the favor of the Guardians though. The closer the situation is to his sister, the more Jack will be motivated to take on his new role. But right now, there is not much I can do but wait and watch._

The moon continued across the sky and eventually dawn came, the sun rising on a day that would be simply one more in a long line of misery for a young boy, and one that would devastate a little girl.


	7. Chapter 7

As the sunlight shined in through his window, Jack mentally prepared himself to face another day. If he could, he would've simply stayed in bed all day, every day, for the rest of forever. It would be so much easier than leaving the house and having to face the rest of the village. No one blamed him, but there were always the whispers and pitying glances – and he blamed himself enough for the whole town. But he had responsibilities to his parents and to the town. True, it had only been about a week since the accident, and no one in town would blame Jack for mourning, but during the winter, small towns like Burgess could use all the help they could get hunting and cutting firewood – and when there was none of that work to be done, Jack would keep everyone's children entertained while their parents worked. No one expected Jack to take on these tasks now, but he refused to stop. He hadn't been able to save Emma, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't be so useless again. Besides, if he kept busy, he could almost ignore the looks of pity that everyone gave him.

He got up and dressed, and went to light a fire in the fireplace while his mother prepared breakfast and his father got ready to go hunting with some other men from the town. "Is there anything I can do to help today?" Jack asked his father.

"No, Jack," Mr. Overland said, "we've already got five men in the hunting party, that should be plenty. Why don't you go out and have some fun today?"

Jack shivered involuntarily as the memory of Emma on the ice ran through his head for the umpteenth time. _"We're gonna have a little fun instead,"_ he'd said to her. _We're gonna have a little fun... a little fun... fun..._  Jack shook his head to clear the memories away and forced a smile for his father. "Ok," he said as Mr. Overland left.

"Jack," his mother said quietly, coming over to him and putting her hand on his shoulder, "you don't have to pretend for us. You know that, right?"

Looking at his mother's understanding face, Jack wanted to break down in tears. He wanted to be a child again without responsibilities, without the expectation to be strong, without the expectation to be a man. He wanted to just sit down and cry while his mother told him everything would be ok. But that wasn't how it worked. But Jack wasn't a child anymore, and though life would continue, things would never be ok again. Crying wouldn't bring Emma back. Nothing would. He rested his hand on his mother's. "I'm ok, mother," he said with another forced smile.

Mrs. Overland wasn't fooled, but she respected that her son would have to deal with the loss of his sister in his own way. "Ok," she said quietly, but she pulled him close and hugged him for several moments before letting him go. "Be careful," she said as he too walked out the door and when it closed, she went to sit by the fire and broke down into silent sobs of her own.

***

Pitch paced around his lair, occasionally glancing at the girl who was still laying asleep, surrounded by shadows. It was taking longer than he though for her body to absorb and become accustomed to the darkness. Perhaps he had underestimated how much the power of light – light that is so strong in a child's innocent heart – would fight against the power of the shadows, but he knew the darkness would win out. He'd already begun to plant the seeds of doubt in her mind when she'd first awakened. Those doubts were now haunting her sleep too. Most of the time she was calm, but occasionally she would call out her brother's name, her voice full of fear and sometimes the sound of betrayal, and Pitch would smile to himself. Sometimes he would in fact encourage the nightmares, aware that the images Emma was seeing were of her brother, turning and running away as the ice cracked below her. If he wanted his plan to work, then he'd have to completely turn her against her brother.

She cried out again, just then. "J-Jack!" she whimpered. Pitch glided silently over to her. "Jack, don't leave me!" she cried.

Pitch leaned over and whispered into her ear, "He left you, little girl." Emma's face squinched up with fear and sadness. "He ran away."

"Jack..." she muttered again.

"And doesn't that make you angry?" As Pitch spoke, the shadows around the girl writhed violently, worming their way into her dreams and making them even more nightmarish. "Doesn't that just make you want to hurt him back?" A tear slipped from the corner of Emma's eye and Pitch stood back with a satisfied smile.

But deep within him stirred the tiniest twinge of a feeling he hadn't felt in... he couldn't even remember the last time. As he looked down at Emma, he was reminded of another little girl, one that he could never see again. She of course was grown far past childhood now, but Pitch would always remember her as a little girl with laughter in her voice. He'd never dream of hurting her or causing her pain but now here he was with another child, one whom he was mentally tormenting. Was he going too far?

 _No_ , he thought angrily to himself, turning and walking away from Emma. _I am the Nightmare King! This is what I do, this is why I exist!_  He went over to a part of his lair where the ground seemed to disappear altogether, dropping off and leaving nothing but a black abyss below. He stared down into it and thought about the countless children whom he'd given nightmares. That was all he was doing to Emma – giving her nightmares. This was no different than what he'd always done. _But I didn't_ always _do this. And it_ is _different,_  the thought came unbidden. What he was doing to Emma amounted to far more than nightmares, he knew. And he hadn't always been the Nightmare King. Once, he'd been a hero. And a father.

For a moment, the shadows of the pit below Pitch played tricks on his eyes and he imagined he saw a butterfly...

But he shook his head and growled in frustration. "No. Things are different now. This child," he said, turning back and looking across the room at Emma, "this child is in good hands. Together, we will be more powerful than all of the Guardians combined. Together, we will rule!" He cackled victoriously. After all, everything was going according to his plan. Sure, it was taking the girl a while to wake up, but she would eventually and it would be well worth the wait. He'd rise to power once again, with her at his side – a loyal apprentice, iand daughter/i, he thought.

It was then that with a sharp gasp, Emma woke up, sitting upright and breathing heavily. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. "Where... where am I?"

Pitch glided over to her, seeming to appear right out of the shadows. "Your new home, child," he said, reaching out to take her hand and help her stand. She flinched away from it though. _Ah, fear of me and this place, that's not something I want,_  he thought to himself. With a subtle waved of his hand, he caused the shadows around Emma to recede, taking with them the sense of fear she had about being somewhere unknown.

"The Boogeyman," she said, vaguely remembering him standing on the ice with her. Slowly her memories came back to her. "You... s-saved?... me..."

"My name is Pitch Black, but that's right, my dear, I saved you from drowning under the ice."

"Where's Jack?" she asked, her pale eyes darting around Pitch's lair.

"Does it matter?" Pitch asked. "After all, he doesn't care about you, but I-"

"Yes he does!" Emma shouted, her fingers automatically finding the crooked staff which was laying next to her on the stone slab. "He does care!" she said, standing up and holding the staff in front of her. Suddenly, shadows were writhing around Emma again, and they were not of Pitch's creation. The girl was indeed very powerful.

Pitch backed up and he couldn't help but smile. He couldn't have asked for a better apprentice. He quickly rearranged his features though into a look of understanding and pity. "Are you so sure, my dear?" He surreptitiously sent a wave of fear her way, using it this time to infect her memories about Jack. "Could really care about you all that much if he ran off and left you?"

"Of... of course he cares," she said, lowering her staff, but she sounded much more unsure now. "He cares! My brother loves me!" she said a bit more forcefully, as thought trying to make herself believe that it was true. "He... he loves me. He tried..." Her shoulders sagged as the doubts and fear about Jack went round and round in her head. "Where is he?" she asked again.

Pitch forced back a scowl. "I suppose back at your home. But that doesn't matter. I brought you here to keep you safe –"

"I want to see him," she said firmly, looking up at him.

Pitch almost laughed. This innocent little girl had gone through a traumatic ordeal that had almost taken her life, woke up to find herself in a new, dark place, and now here she was, standing up to and making demands of the Boogeyman himself.

"I want to go see him," she repeated, "take me to see him."

Pitch did laugh now. "See him? But he won't be able to—" but then he stopped. This was perfect. What better way to win her over and turn her against her brother than to let her go and try to talk to him? Emma wasn't human anymore, she was a spirit, like him, and therefore she had the same limitations – limitations that would work to Pitch's advantage. He quickly changed his expression and his tone again. "No, you're right, child. You should go see your brother. Maybe I'm wrong," he said. iI'm not wrong/i, he thought though. "Maybe he _does_ care." Emma nodded, holding onto the staff firmly and with a determined look on her face. "Come with me," Pitch said.

He helped her out of his lair, stopping at the empty bed frame that marked its entrance, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Now, my dear, if you head that direction," he pointed, "you will find your way back to your town, and surely you'll be able to find your brother. Maybe he cares after all. But..." he looked down into her pale eyes, "if... if you find that he doesn't, I will be right here. I saved you and I want to help you. If no one else will, you still have me. Now, run along..." And Emma did, heading off to find her brother.

It didn't take Emma very long to get back to Burgess. She'd played in those woods all of her life so far, so she knew them rather well – though she hadn't remembered seeing the bed frame there ever before. The ground was covered with thick snow, and more snow was falling and it hindered her progress slightly, but soon enough, Burgess was back in sight. Just outside of town, she found Jack, playing in the snow with some other children. "Jack!" she called, running toward him.

Jack had helped some of the town's children build up snow forts, and now they were waging a snowball war against each other. At some point, one of them had deemed Jack the "Snow Beast" so now he was running around growling and playfully tackling any child brave enough to leave their fort into snow banks. He had a smile on his face but every so often, that smile slipped. A child would ask him what was wrong, but he'd smile again and say that he was fine, and continue to play.

Inside, Jack was haunted, empty. Sure, he smiled and laughed and played, but every action was forced. He didn't think he could ever truly feel happy or have fun again. In every child around him, he saw his sister. Playing like this was hard for him, but he did it for them. He tried to distract himself from the pain, but he couldn't forget Emma's face, they way she used to laugh when they had snowball fights or he'd do silly tricks. As the children around him shouted his name in play, he always heard her voice instead.

And then, he really did hear her voice. Or at least he thought he did. But that was impossible! Wasn't it?

"Jack!" Emma said, running up to him and standing in front of him, smiling. He had stopped, but he wasn't looking at her. "Jack, it's me!" she said, waiting for him to lean down and hug her like he always used to.

"Jack!" came another voice though, this one much more real-sounding than what Jack had just heard, or thought he heard. It was his neighbor's son, who just then hit Jack with a snowball. This snapped Jack out of his thoughts. It couldn't have been Emma's voice he heard, he told himself, despite how painful it was to admit.

"Arrrrgh, I'm going to get you!" he called to the boy, dashing after him and scooping up snow to make snowballs, throwing them at the boy and the other children who now darted around him.

Emma was confused. "Jack," she said again, following after her brother. Why wouldn't he look at her? "Jack!" She followed him but he was ignoring her. "Jack, it's—" she had to shout to make herself heard above the other children. "Jack! It's me! It's your sister! Emma!"

Jack paused again because again, he thought her heard his sister's voice. His eyes darted around but she was nowhere to be seen. iYou're cracking up, Jack, you're losing it,/i he thought to himself, scrunching his eyes shut and shaking his head. _Emma is gone._

"Jack!" Emma was getting desperate now. "Jack!" her voice grew quieter and tears welled in her eyes. "Jack, it's me, it's Emma. I'm right here!" But he wasn't paying any attention to her, he just kept playing with the other children. She started to cry. "Jack, please," she whimpered through her tears, but still he didn't look at her at all. _He doesn't care about you,_  Pitch's words echoed in her head. The last he'd seen her was on cracking ice but here he was, playing with all these other children like nothing had happened.

Jack thought her heard her, again and again. His eyes darted around, feeling like he'd see his sister standing there if he just turned quickly enough. Her voice was like an echo, and it was like she was there with him, standing somewhere just out of sight, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find her. Still, the children wanted him to play, and so he did.

How could he do this to her? How could her brother just be ignoring her like that? Emma's tears grew cold and then quite literally froze on her face. "Jackson Overland, why won't you pay attention to me?!" she screamed, and suddenly the temperature dropped several degrees. The falling snow around them turned to hail, falling hard and fast. Several of the children cried out in pain and began running for their homes.

"Come on, everyone," Jack was saying to them, "back home, quickly now, go get warmed up." He herded them all along in front of him back toward the town. But he turned around and for a second, he seemed to look right at her.

"Jack?" Emma asked, her tone softening. But then he turned again and walked away. Emma screamed, angrier now than she ever remembered feeling. iHe doesn't care about you,i she heard Pitch's words in her mind again. "He doesn't care about me," she echoed them. "He really doesn't care." For a minute, she thought she was going to cry again, but she felt too angry to cry anymore. "Fine! Then I don't care either!" she shouted at his back, and then she turned around and fled through the forest, back to where she knew she'd find the bed frame. It wasn't Jack, but isomeone/i cared about her.

And there he was, waiting for her, just like he said he would be. Pitch could see the change in the girl easily, and he could feel it too, for as she drew closer, the air grew much colder. Her chin was firmly set and her eyes were angry, and she walked with an air of finality that he'd never seen in a child before. He put on his best sympathetic look. "You've returned. That must mean... I'm sorry, my dear."

For a second, he could see that sad, scared little girl in her eyes again, and he thought she might start crying, but she took a deep breath and the look went away. She looked down at the snow under her feet. "You said... you said that I was powerful. That I could do great things," she said quietly, remembering back to what he'd told her when he stood with her on the ice. Then she looked up at him and her eyes were cold and determined. "Teach me."

Pitch held back another laugh of victory and put his hand on her shoulder. "Very well," he said with an evil smile. "You are choosing now to leave that life," he gestured toward Burgess, "your human life behind, and so you will also leave that name behind. From now on, you will be my apprentice, and your name shall be Black Frost."


End file.
